I've always liked the Weasley house. Sure, it was a bit crammed, but it gave off the warm, fuzzy feeling as a home should have, The Malfoy manor, on the other hand, was more or less a bit bleak. I was never sure of the reason behind it, as both of the places are decorated for Christmas, both echoed with the crisp sound of wood slowly burning in the vivid, supposedly joyful fire from the fireplace. But there must be something, some that was fulfilled in the Weasley house and missing in the Malfoy manor. Then that word came into my mind:
Love.
It couldn't be though, it couldn't be. I was sure Malfoy's parents loved him, perhaps not in the most conventional ways, but they did love him. Glancing over my shoulder I saw his face, perpetually pale but painted with the slightest warm color on his cheeks from the heat of the fire at this very moment. Did my heart ache for him? A little, just a little. Not enough for me to picture him as the lone child living in a luxurious, spacious mansion and left with emptiness in his heart, but enough for me to feel empathy towards him, and propelled me to love him ever and ever more.
I knew there and then, that the protagonist of my story was no longer me. No, it was never me, it always was and always would be him. This was not some kind of solemn revelation of myself despite the chaos of others chatting, it was a realization that I finally decided to come to term with.
Surprisingly, everyone behaved at dinner. Ron didn't seem so happy with the situation that I brought Malfoy here, but he didn't say a word, though he did glare at Malfoy and I a few times while pretending to smile and having a conversation and Quidditch with Harry. Lavender was sitting next to him, with her hand on his back most of the time, listening and laughing at the things he said, acted completely oblivious about her boyfriend's undeniable fury against the two sitting across them. From time to time, I found myself wondering about how much of the history between Ron and I that she came to know of. Maybe all of it, or maybe nothing at all except that once upon a long while ago we dated. Oblivion was sure a blessing in her case.
Malfoy was polite. Not even one rude comment or joke had slipped through his thin lips and I was proud of him for keeping himself in check. Although there were times he whispered to my ear with a smirk, I brushed it off lightheartedly.
"I'm not sure who Weasley wants dead more, you or me, or both," He said as he swiftly looked toward Ron's direction.
"I hope he doesn't wish death upon anyone in the holiday season," I shook my head, looked at neither of them.
"Do you think he'll want to talk to you after dinner?" He continued as he slowly stuck his fork into the neatly sliced turkey.
"Why would you ask?" I frowned, looking at my empty plate, debating whether I should take a slice of the cherry pie.
"If he doesn't, I'd suggest you go talk to him," He curled his lips, "It's about time."
"For?" I finally turned to him.
"It's time to amend the animosity between you two," He proceeded to put the turkey onto my plate, "Here, have this, I'm done watching you struggling to cut anything up."
"I just finished my plate," I protested, pretended to be angry, "I was thinking about getting the pie."
"You can have more meat," He winked, "And not just turkey, though turkey is quite good too."
I squinted. It took me a second to catch on, and when I did, I rolled my eyes.
"Oh dear, don't roll your eyes," He tried his best to hold back his laugh, "That remind me of the Weasley girl, and anything remind me of anything Weasley is a disgrace."
"You do realize they are right here, right?" I kept my voice as low as possible and acted as if I was serious.
He shrugged and went back to finishing off his plate. I smiled at looked away from him, just to meet the eye with Ginny, who was sitting to my left and staring at me in amusement.
"It seems there's some improvements between you two," She nodded and said quietly, making sure that no one else heard our conversation.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I don't know, I guess I never expected that you two would stick together," She threw her hands before she half stood up and reached for the cherry pie, "I always thought you wouldn't last until Christmas."
"Why would you think that?" I rose my eyebrow and watched her cutting a piece of the pie.
"Well, no offense, but to be honest," She handed me the pie after putting a slice in her plate, "You started seeing each other out of nowhere, and I really thought you went out Malfoy to spite my brother. And if not that, you must make some sort arrangements with him. Or why else would you go out with your arch enemy?"
I had a sinking feeling in my gut, and I could feel my heart rate accelerating. Did Ginny know something? But how? We kept it all to ourselves and I never told anyone about it. Did Malfoy say something? No, no way, he wasn't the type to speak of such things to others. Perhaps I was just thinking too much.
"Don't be silly," I patted on her forearm. With a smile, I said it in what I assumed to be my best normal voice, "Why would I do such things?"
She didn't respond right away. Instead, she squinted for a few seconds before she said:
"Hermione, the pie is sliding off the plate."